


I Miss Me Too

by cynosure_phrases



Series: Carry On Countdown 2019 [2]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst day, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bickering, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:34:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21689926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynosure_phrases/pseuds/cynosure_phrases
Summary: “I used to think you had all of the life I'd lost--” my voice waivers, so I clear it “--that you had my bit of it. But with you all… like this, it feels like I’m the one who has to pick up the liveliness, and I just don’t have it. I’ve never been the alive one, and I never will be. And it's damn well hard to even act like I've got it, let alone try to share it."--Simon spills what he couldn't bring himself to tell Baz before the roadtrip. Baz struggles to know what to do.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Carry On Countdown 2019 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561252
Comments: 7
Kudos: 147





	I Miss Me Too

**Author's Note:**

> as usual, check out my tumblr for my other COC works!  
> heads up, most of my latter COC work will be in fic form! so there's gonna be a lot coming up from me!

Snow’s on edge again.

Snow seems to be on edge a lot recently. In fact, I don’t think I can recall a recent time in which he  _ wasn’t _ on edge. The chattering in his brain doesn’t quite seem to know when to stop.

I’m watching him try to stop it--to pull away from this funk--eyes flicking about the room. Unfocused and off.

I know what happened to him today, at least. It isn’t the usual guessing game of “Why is Simon Snow Dissociating Today?”. Bunce had mentioned, when I’d stepped into the flat and she immediately hauled me aside, that Snow had heard someone singing “Bohemian Rhapsody” earlier today, and he’d immediately got all stiff and standoffish.

By the looks of it, he’s sinking deeper into the moment. Into the memories, into the thoughts of  _ him. _

The worst of it is, I know he can’t stop thinking about The Mage. It comes out on occasion--like the brainwash never quite left him. Like he’s still in action-mode.

I want to help him so desperately. I want him back.

I just don’t know what to say.

“How was your day?” Is my start, sitting myself onto the armrest of the couch as he lounges back into his Simon-shaped indent.

“A day.”

_ Merlin… _

I look to Bunce for help, but she’s already slipping on her shoes (damn her evening classes). She gives me a sympathy shrug, mouthing something about needing to run before leaving us alone.

It used to be a dream come true to have the flat alone with Snow. And, after all that’s happened, part of me still hopes that I’d be able to enjoy it, but it seems like today definitely won’t be our day.

“Hungry?”

“Not really.”

Right. "How about a bit of fresh air?” I move to stand, probably to open a window, but Snow jerks alert before I even get off the arm. He bolts upright, looking a bit harsher.

“Christ, Baz, won’t you just let me be?”

I flinch away from him, unintentionally, but he notices and recoils slightly in reaction. Shit. My throat feels tight, my head feels foggy, and I can’t fully breathe.

“I’m sorry for wanting to do something.” I’m sounding robotically sarcastic. I’m sounding like my father. I’m--

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“I’m… sorry--?”

“You don’t  _ have _ to do anything.” His hand waves over himself, mouth hanging open. “You don’t have to  _ solve _ me. I’m not your problem to fix, I’m a bloody person.”

“Simon…”

“I’m serious,” he says stiffly, swallowing hard while straightening his back. “I’m  _ tired _ of you making assumptions that I’m helpless nowadays. I’m  _ not _ .”

“I never--”

“Don’t  _ you _ get tired of it?” I’m not liking the way he’s sounding. “Getting tired about caring about me? When will this gig be up?”

“Never,” I say incredulously. “Simon, I’ll never be tired of you. Don’t  _ you _ get that by now?”

“No,” he scoffs, "I don’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? What do you feel about me?”

He snorts. “What do I--” he stops himself, looking slack-jawed and half heartbroken (Simon Snow, if you only knew the half of it).

When he starts up again, he sounds broken. “Baz Pitch, I want every bit of you. I  _ need _ every bit of you. I want what you want, and I know,” he starts getting tighter, “you’re gonna want to let go of my bullshit.”

My chest drops further, sending my fingers into a tingle and mind spinning.  _ No. No no no… _ “Simon."

“What? Don’t you just think about it?”

“No. Never.”

Snow’s head snaps up, wings twitching behind him. “Don’t lie to me--”

“I’ve never once thought about breaking up with you,” I say sternly. “Merlin, Snow, do  _ you _ think about breaking up with  _ me? _ ”

He goes silent.

I think, in the moment, that that’s my cue to leave. 

“Right,” I say quietly, standing up and fixing my jacket with shaking hands. Snow’s still silent, staring at me with his bloody open mouth and bloody gorgeous eyes that I can’t think about now, because if I think about them I’ll  _ cry _ , and I can’t cry. Not here. Not now.

But he stops me.

He doesn’t grab me fully, but instead, he reaches out, fingertips brushing my arm as his neck bobs and his voice comes out quiet. Afraid. “I’d figured if I did, then you wouldn’t do it first,” he whispers. “I wanted… I wanted to protect you… I…”

My fingers tremble, and my breath shakes. I want to look at him, but I can’t. Not now.

I can’t say anything, so he says everything for me. “I didn’t want to do it. I never wanted to. I just want you to be happy, and you don’t seem happy anymore.”

“I was never happy,” I correct, then turn to him, trying to keep my composure. “I was never entirely happy, Snow. I’m just in love, and I’m in love with someone who isn’t here full time.”

Snow does nothing but nod, waiting for me to continue. So I do. I say everything I used to hold onto; everything I have been holding onto.

“I used to think you had all of the life I'd lost--” my voice waivers, so I clear it “--that you had my bit of it. But with you all… like this, it feels like I’m the one who has to pick up the liveliness, and I just don’t have it. I’ve never been the alive one, and I never will be. And it's damn well hard to even act like I've got it, let alone try to share it."

His hand slowly settles onto my arm, then trails down, dropping to my hand and taking it. I curl my fingers around, feeling his pulse, feeling the rush of his blood underneath his skin as I hold tight. It feels more like an apology than intimacy.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, then repeats it. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m--”

“Please, don’t,” I shake my head, “it’s really not something we need to keep talking about. I really don’t  _ want _ to.”

His pulse beats harder. I try to ignore it. “Yeah, fine. Yes.” He stares off into space drearily. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” I repeat, lips twitching. I hesitate before sliding down into the seat next to him, setting my spare hand onto his cheek.

At first, he stiffens, breath catching silently into the space between us. But then he melts, eyes falling shut in fanned lashes and lightly dampened cheeks. I lean in to kiss away the salt, and he lets me.

I want so much more. I want an infinity. But if this is all I can get, I’m more than happy to indulge.

“I’m sorry, Baz,” he whispers, spare hand wrapping around my bicep before squeezing. I let him say it this time. I think I need to hear it.

“It’s okay,” I whisper against his skin. Warm. Smells faintly of butter and jam. “It’s okay. I love you. It’s okay.”


End file.
